


Growing Pains

by surlybobbies



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Baby Jack - Freeform, Castiel and Kids, Dean and Kids, Destiel Reverse Bang, Destiel Reverse Bang 2018, Domestic Castiel/Dean Winchester, Domestic Fluff, Family Feels, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, M/M, Minor Eileen Leahy/Sam Winchester, Neighbors
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-20
Updated: 2018-06-20
Packaged: 2019-05-25 09:17:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,884
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14974025
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/surlybobbies/pseuds/surlybobbies
Summary: “Cas could hardly believe that less than a month prior he’d been in court pleading hoarsely through a stream of tears for permanent guardianship of Jack, the child that his closest friend Kelly hadn’t expected but had still loved with all of her heart.“When Kelly Kline passes away in a car accident, leaving her infant son Jack orphaned, her best friend Cas petitions the courts for guardianship.  Thus with one bang of a gavel, Cas becomes, for all intents and purposes, a father.  Fatherhood, however, is more than a little challenging for a single man who has no experience with children.  Enter Dean Winchester, the neighbor from across the hall, who proves himself good with Jack (and might be even better with Cas.)





	Growing Pains

**Author's Note:**

> First, a disclaimer - I have no practical experience in the issues of guardianships and adoptions, so if there are inaccuracies (such as in the timeline and process), please blame my poor Google skills. Just accept that the circumstances are such: Kelly has passed away, and with no living relatives and the father in the wind, Cas is able to prove he has a meaningful relationship to Jack and is financially and mentally able to care for the child.
> 
> Second, if you’re looking for a drama-heavy fic, please look elsewhere. The circumstances in which Cas received Jack are sad, but the angst in this fic is kept to the barest minimum. I operate pretty much exclusively in fluff.
> 
> SHOUT-OUT TO MY ARTIST BOOPLIETTE! You'll find two pieces of her art embedded in the fic, and the link to the masterpost will be at the bottom so that you can send her all the love and reblogs she deserves! (More gushing at the end.)

The quiet moment in Cas’s newly-furnished nursery was so calm it felt surreal. Cas could hardly believe that less than a month prior he’d been in front of the family court judge pleading hoarsely through a stream of tears for permanent guardianship of Jack, the child that his closest friend Kelly hadn’t expected but had still loved with all of her heart. 

He’d blundered through the speech and come out barely coherent, and the fear that had gripped him in the long moments before the judge’s verdict was unlike anything he’d ever experienced. But then the judge had smiled at Cas and granted him guardianship of Jack in a solemn voice, telling Cas how sorry she was for his loss, and that she truly believed that Kelly Kline would have wanted her son to be with Cas. “Keep him happy, Mr. Novak. That’s all a mother wants for her children, and from what you’ve told me of her, Ms. Kline was a wonderful other.” 

Cas had barely been able to say thank you through his tears. 

After the hearing, Cas had waited for the cogs in the system to begin turning. And when Jack had finally come to him, asleep in a stranger’s arms, Cas had received him with a hushed reverence, and after signing the necessary papers, had bid the stranger goodbye and walked slowly to the nursery, amazed that he had so suddenly become solely responsible for the 6-month-old cradled in his arms.

There was a knot in Cas’s throat as he watched Jack sleep in the nursery he’d spent the last month lovingly putting together. The baby was golden-haired and sweet, like all of the pictures of cherubs Cas had grown up seeing in stained glass windows. He felt the beginnings of tears pricking at his eyes, tears of both happiness and of grief - so when he heard the doorbell ring, he was grateful for the distraction. A few seconds later, he peered into the peephole and was dumbfounded to see Dean Winchester, the man from the apartment across the hall, rocking back and forth on his heels as he waited for Cas to open the door. He was holding a plate with both hands.

Cas took a moment to take a deep steadying breath and to straighten the tie he’d put on for the foster agency representative. Then he opened the door and did a reasonably good job of looking surprised. “Dean, how are you?”

Dean nodded, looking adorably awkward. “I’m, uh - great. You?”

Cas thought of Jack and smiled. “I’m doing well.” Then he looked down at Dean’s hands. “Is that…”

“For you,” Dean said, offering Cas the plate of lasagna. “It’s, uh, homemade.” When Cas, speechless, took it, Dean thrust his hands into his pockets. “We haven’t really been able to catch up in a while - or, y’know, ever - and you’ve been in and out the past few weeks lookin’ hassled, so I fixed you up a little something. Figured it might keep you from havin’ to worry about dinner tonight.”

Cas was so touched it took him a few tries to get any words out. “Dean, I’m - this is - I’m very grateful to you. This is very kind. Truly.”

Dean waved away Cas’s thanks, though pleasure had still lit up his face. 

Cas turned around to look at his apartment. It was spotless and child-proof in anticipation of Jack. When Cas turned back around, Dean’s expression was hopeful. “Would you like to come in?” Cas asked, fully aware that he would have had to tell his neighbors about Jack eventually.

Dean grinned and opened his mouth to answer.

Then from the nursery, Jack started to cry.

Cas’s head whipped around in the direction of the cries, but not before he saw Dean’s smile slip.

“Is that a - ”

Cas stepped away from the door and awkwardly gestured for Dean to come inside. “Please make yourself at home,” he said, placing the plate of lasagna on his dining table. “Excuse me for one moment.” He slipped away before Dean could voice the questions that were written clearly across his face.

Jack hadn’t stopped shrieking by the time Cas walked into the nursery. When Cas picked him up, however, the cries settled into a restless fussing. Cas let Jack settle against his shoulder. Jack cooed in contentment. “You’re okay,” he murmured into the baby’s fine golden hair. “You’re safe.” Jack gurgled in response, and Cas could feel the drool seeping into his shirt. He sighed.

Once he’d located a towel and placed it underneath the baby’s cheek, Cas steeled himself for the awkward conversation he was about to have with the kind, attractive neighbor he’d been nursing a painful attraction toward since he’d moved into the apartment building two years ago. Cas knew that whatever chance he had had with Dean was surely dashed by the arrival of Jack. Dean Winchester could have had his pick of anybody - there was no way he was going to give the time of day to the tired new single father next door. 

The realization stung, but Cas pressed a kiss to Jack’s head and found no regret in his choice. There was no competition: Jack was Cas’s priority now, and would be his priority for as long as he lived. He held his head up high when he walked back into the kitchen, his arms carrying the dozing infant.

Dean’s mouth hung open. It took him a few attempts, but eventually he seemed to settle for saying, “This is new.”

“Very new,” Cas agreed. “Barely an hour.”

“An hour? Uh. I’m sorry - I’m not entirely sure what’s happening right now.” Dean swallowed, then after a long pause, he said, “Is he _yours_?”

Cas sat down at his kitchen table. Jack’s weight was comforting in his arms, and his warmth was a balm to the hurt Dean’s apprehensive reaction had caused. “He’s mine,” he said, as confidently as he could muster despite not being able to meet Dean’s eyes. At Dean’s extended silence, however, Cas amended his statement. “He’s mine _now._ I was awarded guardianship of him.”

Dean’s nod was excessively slow. He sank down into a chair on the opposite side of the table. “Okay,” he began. He ran a hand over the bottom half of his face. Then he met Cas’s eyes, and he seemed to come back to himself. “Sorry,” he said. “This is totally - I don’t mean to get in your business.” He stood up abruptly. “I’ll leave you to it, then.” He stared at his feet as he walked to the door, his jaw clenched.

It occurred to Cas that if he allowed Dean to leave at this moment, Cas would probably never see him in the apartment ever again. “His name is Jack,” he said, a last-ditch effort, just as Dean grasped the doorknob.

Dean stopped. He turned his head and looked at the golden-haired boy in Cas’s arms. The corner of his mouth twitched. “Hey, Jack,” he said softly.

“I think Jack wants you to stay,” Cas said, fully aware he was being shameless, but not caring because Dean was letting go of the door knob.

“Yeah?” Dean asked. His expression was sly. “He looks asleep to me.”

Cas smiled. “His - his uncle, then, he wants you to stay and have dinner.”

Dean licked his lips. Cas held his breath.

“Fair enough,” Dean said. 

 

The lasagna was fantastic, but Dean’s company was even better. As Cas ate his second serving, he found himself mourning all the times he’d chickened out on asking Dean over for dinner over the years, because Dean was charming and funny and kind and Cas could think of at least one horrible occasion (two months ago, a rainy midnight, a slick road) he would have appreciated Dean’s steadiness.

“So,” Dean said, leaning back in his chair. His cheeks were flushed from the wine Cas had insisted on pouring him. “What’s the little guy’s story?” 

Jack had woken up just as Cas had been about to take his first bite of lasagna and had promptly started bawling. He’d quieted after Cas had fixed him a bottle, after which Cas had excused himself to put Jack back to bed. Jack had been quiet ever since. Cas missed him already. “He found himself in need of someone to raise him,” he said quietly. He didn’t want to get into the details. Not now.

Dean frowned. “And when you say he’s yours, you mean - “

“I’m his permanent guardian.”

“But he’s not - “

Cas shook his head. “He’s not my biological son.”

Dean seemed to be satisfied after that. He stared at the glass of wine in his hand. “So - you prepared for fatherhood, Cas?”

“The past few hours have been smooth sailing. I don’t expect it all to be quite like that, but I’m optimistic.’

Dean’s smile was a little wicked around the edges. “Oh, just you wait.”

“That’s certainly ominous.”

Dean placed a hand over his heart. “Practically raised my little bro myself, and trust me, Cas, there ain’t such a thing as ‘smooth sailing’ when you’re raising a kid.”

Cas had never heard Dean speak about his family or about his past. Cas had never really heard Dean speak about much at all, really. The extent of their conversations, Cas was beginning to realize, had only ever covered the usual neighborly things: “Sorry for the noise last night; a friend was in town” or “I’ll be out of town for a few days, can you keep an eye on my place?” but most often, “Have a good day, Dean,” and “Back’atcha, Cas.” And while Cas was grateful to have shared those small moments with Dean, moments like this, in Cas’s apartment eating Dean’s lasagna, were far more valuable to him. Already Cas was seeing more of Dean than he’d thought to ask about, and the nervous man who had awkwardly thrust a plate of lasagna into Cas’s chest was nowhere to be found. In his place was a charmer who extended fond smiles at Jack and made Cas’s heartbeat stutter.

Cas’s eyelids were heavy, but he was determined to keep Dean for as long as he could.

He poured Dean another glass of wine. “Tell me about your little brother.”

Dean’s eyes lit up.

 

Three days later, Cas thought to himself that maybe he understood what Dean meant about there being no such thing as “smooth sailing” when a six-month-old was involved. Every day with Jack was a new joy to discover, but it was also definitely _not_ smooth sailing. There were periods of quiet, sure, during which Cas either grabbed a nap on the couch or a bite to eat or did another load of laundry or read another chapter in another parenting book, but those periods of quiet were too few and far between for Cas to ever feel truly _rested._

The lack of rest was mostly because the periods of quiet were always sandwiched between long hours of entertaining a six-month-old who was just learning how to pull himself across the floor and to distinguish between good and bad flavors. Cas learned in those long hours that while he could function on four-hour nights every once in a while, he most definitely could not function on three in a row, and that six-month-olds had the capacity to scream continuously for an hour at the approximate decibel level of a fire alarm. He also learned that many of his neighbors weren’t very neighborly - at least not when it was 4am on a Tuesday morning and Jack was shrieking again for seemingly no reason. 

More than a few times, in between trying to make himself a sandwich and feed Jack something that he couldn’t just throw across the room, Cas caught himself contemplating whether or not he’d made the right decision in fighting for guardianship. Every time he realized what he was doing, however, he felt even worse about himself than he had before, because what kind of asshole takes in a child and then starts questioning the decision? And what good would it have done for Jack to be placed in the foster system when there was a perfectly able, financially secure adult who already cared for him?

Yes, it was difficult, but Jack was Cas’s son - or as good as - and Cas was determined to take every negative experience and turn it into one he could look back on and say he had learned from. When Jack got older, Cas wanted to be able to look him in the eye and say, _you were the best decision I ever made,_ and mean it. 

 

Jack was fussy on Saturday. He had started teething, and according to the pediatrician, that meant that things would be uncomfortable for both of them for a time. Their trip to the grocery store, Cas suspected, was only the beginning, and it was still one of the most unpleasant parenting experiences he had had since the whole adventure began (and that included the level 11 diaper disaster that Cas had woken up to on Thursday): in the grocery store, Jack’s discomfort had caused him to alternate between screaming so loudly Cas prayed for the first time in years and whimpering so piteously that Cas had to tuck them both into a corner where he tried and failed to get both of them to stop crying.

By the time they’d gotten back to the car, Jack had cried himself into an uncomfortable doze, and Cas had made a mental note never to forget Jack’s teething toy in his apartment ever again. By the time they got to Cas’s apartment floor, Cas had also made a mental note to find some way of condensing his grocery list, because carrying a nearly 20-pound infant in one arm and one large paper bag of groceries in the other was bound to lead to some sort of back injury the likes of which Cas was pretty certain he wouldn’t be able to recover from. 

Jack was beginning to rouse, and Cas didn’t even have his keys out. He wasn’t even sure he had his keys, or if he did, which pocket he’d put them in. He was squatting awkwardly in the hall trying to put his groceries down so he could have a free hand when the elevator doors slid open and Dean strode out into their hallway. He slowed when he saw Cas’s predicament. 

He didn’t say a word as he took the groceries from Cas’s arm, then extended a hand to Cas.

“Thank you,” Cas said, trying to sound as unwinded as possible. He gritted his teeth when he heard the sound his knees made as he got up, but he tried to turn the wince into a polite smile. 

“No problem. Hey, little guy,” Dean said, leaning in to smile at Jack, who had begun to squirm. “Oh, he’s not in a good mood.”

Cas grunted when Jack kicked him in the stomach. “Teething,” he explained. He pulled his key from his pocket and opened the door with a grateful sigh. 

“Yikes,” Dean said. “Rough.”

“Tell me about it,” Cas muttered, holding the door open for Dean despite Jack’s insistent wiggling. “I thought we were going to be kicked out of the grocery store. You can put that on the counter - oh. Thank you.” Once Dean had walked in, he had started opening cupboards and putting groceries away.

Dean waved away his thanks as he put the milk in the fridge. “Hope you don’t mind me digging through your groceries, though.”

Cas pulled the door closed behind him. “I’m a very boring man, Dean; there’s nothing incriminating in there,” he said blithely. “While you’re there can you hand me Jack’s teething ring? It’s in the plastic container to the side.”

Dean dug around in the fridge and pulled out the container. He opened it and let Cas take the cold teething ring, then tossed the container in the sink. He leaned against the fridge door once he’d closed it. “Boring is the last word I’d use to describe you, dude.”

Jack was gnawing sleepily on his teething ring. Cas had been so caught up staring at him, overwhelmed with love, that it took a while for Dean’s words to sink in. He raised his eyebrows. “I might come to regret this, but do tell. What words _would_ you use to describe me?”

Dean’s smirk was small, but it sent a frisson of warmth down Cas’s spine. “I dunno. Nerdy? Kind of a hermit?”

It stung a little, but Cas shrugged good-naturedly, smoothing a hand down Jack’s head when he started to babble.

But Dean continued, his voice softer. “Kind. Selfless.” Then he walked over to pick up Jack’s towel from the chair behind Cas, where it had fallen unknowingly from Cas’s shoulder. “Kind of clueless.” He wiped Jack’s face, then laid the towel flat on Cas’s shirt again. Then, without a word, he turned back to the groceries.

Cas closed his eyes, bashfulness pulling a flush up his neck. “I’m going to put Jack down and hope he takes a nap. Feel free to make yourself at home.”

He closed the door behind him in Jack’s nursery and despite wanting to collapse against it in exhaustion, he put Jack down in his crib, pulling the baby’s shirt down where it had ridden up over a pale round belly. “Will you take a nap for Uncle Cas, little one?”

Jack stared at his teething ring, clutched in his two hands, seeming not to hear Cas. He babbled at the ring for a few moments, then yawned with a sudden face scrunch that made Cas smile.

“Good boy. Maybe I can take a nap too,” he murmured. “You’ll let me know if you need anything, right?”

Jack had his teething ring in his mouth, his gums gnawing steadily at it. He stared at Cas, feet kicking at nothing. Cas touched Jack’s smooth cheek.

“I’m going to go talk to Dean now, alright? Do you want me to pass on a message to him? No? Not even anything about how kind he is? No? You sure? Okay, not today. Maybe another time.” He tapped his fingers along Jack’s belly, smiling one more time before turning back to the door. He flipped the lights off, then left, leaving the door open a few inches.

Dean was dozing on Cas’s couch. He jerked awake when Cas approached. “Hey,” he said, rubbing at his eyes. “Sorry. I took a few extra shifts this week at the garage and I’m kinda paying for it.”

“Trust me, I am the last person who is going to blame you for being exhausted,” Cas said. He cleared a few stray items off of the coffee table in front of Dean. Since taking Jack in, he hadn’t had a spare moment to pick up after himself. “I’m sorry for the mess.”

Dean reached out and touched his fingers to Cas’s wrist, stopping just short of taking Cas’s hand. “Whoa - stop, alright? It’s fine. When you have a kid, you get a pass for a few messes here and there.” He stood, pressing a hand to his left eye and suppressing a yawn. “I should go anyway.”

Cas sighed. “I’m sorry,” he said.

Dean sent him a stern look. “Stop apologizing.” He started walking to the door, patting Cas on the shoulder twice as he passed. “I’ll be by later with dinner - don’t bother making a fuss; you’re skin and bones. See you later.” Then he was gone.

Cas kept staring at the door long after Dean had left. Eventually he sat down on the couch and pressed a hand over his eyes. He’d had Jack for hardly a week and a half, and to be developing feelings for Dean at the same time was horrible timing if he ever saw it.

 

Dean came over like he promised at around 6pm, a grin already on his face when Cas opened the door. “Told you I’d be back,” he said. He motioned with a flourish to the plate of burgers he was holding in his left hand. “Voila - my specialty.”

Cas’s stomach rumbled; Dean’s grin widened wickedly. “You’re spoiling me,” Cas said. He stepped back to let Dean in. “Please have a seat. Jack’s just finishing up his meal.”

Dean was already leaning in to tickle Jack’s stomach. “Whatcha eatin’, big man? Peas?” Dean straightened to level an unimpressed look at Cas. “Couldn’t have sprung for the prunes, at least?”

Cas stared. “I didn’t think you’d have an opinion.”

“Prunes, pumpkin, _then_ peas - and that only as a last resort.” Dean dragged a chair next to Jack, then scooped up the jar and spoon that Cas had left on the table. Dean scowled when he dipped the spoon into the green mush. He looked up at Jack, who was already reaching for Dean’s hand. “Sorry, bud - I’ll get you something good next time.” Then he helicoptered the spoon into Jack’s giggling mouth.

Cas, enchanted, was wiping his hands on a hand towel that he had picked up without his knowing. “Uh,” he said, once he realized he’d started to stare, “I - you’re my guest, Dean. I’ll finish up with Jack and you can get started on dinner.”

Dean waved the offer away as he started to coo at the baby. “Did you hear that, Jack? Your uncle thinks I only brought him one burger.” Then he turned just to roll his eyes at Cas. “Both of those are yours, genius.”

Cas wondered if there were ever a period in his life when he’d been at a loss for words any more often than these past few days. He tried to come up with something to say - _thank you_ , or _are you crazy,_ or even _go out with me_ \- but thankfully Dean had turned back to Jack and had continued his cooing.

“You see that, bud?” he said pleasantly, “Your uncle Cas has a feast for dinner, and you’ve got this green mush. What a jerk, eh?”

Jack wiggled in his seat in apparent agreement, but he still accepted the spoonful greedily. Cas settled down to eat and tried not to stare at Dean’s profile.

 

After Cas had demolished his burgers and cursed halfheartedly at Dean for spoiling him, Dean stifled a laugh in Jack’s hair, careful not to wake the infant drooling across his shoulder. “You’re welcome,” he murmured. “I haven’t had anyone to cook for in ages. It’s nice to see someone eat themselves sick because of my burgers.”

Cas was sprawled on his couch, squinting his eyes in Dean’s general direction and trying to focus past the greasy haze of drowsiness. Try as he might, all he could see was a father confidently soothing his son, pacing the kitchen in a quiet moment after dinner. “You look good with him,” he said, before his brain caught up to his mouth. He immediately wanted to knock himself out in mortification, but his hands were too heavy to get to the nearest lamp in time.

Dean, for his part, simply directed an arched eyebrow at Cas. “That your way of telling me I should come babysit more often?”

That made Cas sit up, alarmed. “I - I apologize - I hope you don’t think you’re obligated to stay and _babysit_ -”

“Cas, stop - I was joking.” Dean grinned, smoothing a hand over Jack’s back when the baby snuffled against his shoulder. “I like Jack, and I like helping - it’s not a big deal.”

“Still -”

“Still _nothing_ ,” Dean insisted. He hitched Jack up a little higher in his arms and winced. “He’s a heavy one, though, isn’t he? Nursery through here?”

Cas stood up. “Yes - let me show you.”

The nursery had been a labor of love, a way for Cas to channel his grief at losing a dear friend too early. It had used to be the guest room - the room Kelly stayed in when she fought with her boyfriend - and now it would be Jack’s room for as long as he wanted it. 

Once the judge had ruled in his favor, Cas had gone through a period of time when no amount of money seemed to cover what Jack deserved. He had lost a mother, but Cas swore he’d never lack for anything else if Cas could help it. So he’d gone to the home improvement store, the department store, the stores he never thought he would ever enter. He’d bought the sturdiest crib he could find, the most enticing mobile on sale, the softest blankets he could afford. He’d painted the walls to the nursery a soft grey and had bought new carpet and a wardrobe to keep Jack’s clothes in. The room wasn’t the most fashion-forward, but it was functional and clean and safe and comforting, and he knew Dean agreed when he stepped into the room and looked around with an approving smile.

“All done up in here,” he said. When his smile landed on Cas, Cas smiled back. 

“I tried.”

Dean’s footsteps were silent against the carpet. He placed the baby in the crib and stroked a finger across the smoothness of Jack’s cheek. “Good night, bud,” he murmured, so softly it made Cas’s heart hurt. He was equally touched when Dean picked up the stuffed bee plush in the corner and tucked it against Jack’s side. “In case you wake up and you’re lonely.” When he looked up, it was with a soft smile that was a tad embarrassed. “My brother used to cry when he woke up alone,” he explained.

Cas offered a small smile. “He was lucky to have such a kind older brother.”

Dean laughed softly. “With the amount of grief I give him? Nah. Bet he wishes he’d been an only child.”

It was the affectionate smile on Dean’s face - the evidence that he, an older brother, would understand Cas’s decision to keep Jack - that made Cas say the next thing. “Jack’s mom passed away. She - she was my best friend.”

The smile on Dean’s face slipped. “Dude. I’m sorry.”

Cas tried to smile, but to his horror his lips started to tremble. He had thought himself to be over the worst of the grief, but he was finding that perhaps it was only because he had never allowed himself to dwell on the end of Kelly’s story. He took a few deep breaths to gather himself. “I had to take him in. She loved him so much, but she had no family, and I couldn’t - I couldn’t let him vanish into the system, even if I had no experience with children.”

Dean’s hand came up to grip Cas’s elbow - a small gesture, but appreciated. “Breathe, Cas. You’re doing just fine. You did the right thing,” he murmured. 

Cas hadn’t realized how much he needed someone to say that. “Thank you,” Cas whispered, gratitude making his heart beat a little louder. He hadn’t let any tears fall, but he wiped at his eyes anyway. He offered a small smile to Dean, then looked back at the door. “Shall we?”

Dean stared at Cas’s face for a few moments as if debating whether or not to ask more, but instead he tore his eyes away to take one more look at the sleeping Jack, then followed after Cas.

Cas yawned as they closed the nursery door behind them. When he lowered his hand, it was to see Dean staring at him with furrowed brows.

“You haven’t been sleeping,” he accused.

Cas raised his eyebrows. “Do any new parents really sleep?”

Dean dug a finger into Cas’s ribs through his shirt. “No, but you ain’t eating either.”

Cas opened his mouth to argue but came up short with a reply when he realized he didn’t remember his last real meal before Dean came over. 

“Yeah, thought so,” Dean said. He shook his head and started walking to the door, leaving Cas to stare after him. Over his shoulder, Dean called out, “You’re gonna exhaust yourself.”

Cas sighed and ran a hand through his hair. “No other options,” he said, and followed Dean. 

Dean turned around at hearing that, right at the door. His expression was hesitant. “Cas, I don’t want you to take this the wrong way.”

“What?” Cas asked, a little terrified.

“Did you quit your job?” Dean asked suddenly.

“What? No -”

“Then who’ll be taking Jack when you go back? Family? A nursery?”

Cas faltered. “I have - friends. And a brother. I haven’t asked them yet, but -”

Dean fell slack against the door jamb. “Cas, buddy - you’re driving me crazy.”

Cas looked at the man in front of him - handsome, tall, looking up at Cas through thick lashes and with freckles dusting his cheeks, a cheek that had brushed against Jack’s in affection just a few minutes before. _Who’s driving who crazy here?_ Cas thought. “I’m new at this,” he murmured.

Dean sighed dramatically, but the way he rolled his eyes was, Cas thought, a little affectionate. “And like I said, you’re doing fine. Just - I want to help. Your friends, your brother - you’re sure they’ll come through?”

“Yes,” Cas said, though he tried not to think of Gabe alone with Jack for too long.

“Hm,” Dean said. He stared into Cas’s eyes for a long moment. “And until then?”

Cas was too exhausted to understand what Dean was trying to infer. “I don’t understand your question.”

“Until you go back to work, you got any help?”

“You think I need help?” Cas said. Dean reached out his hand and touched a few fingers to Cas’s hair. The hand came away sticky with mushed garden peas.

Dean winced. “Cas, bud, I can’t fault you for your effort, but - yeah, I think you need some help,” he said, before turning around and walking into the hallway. As he was pulling his apartment keys from his pocket, he said to Cas, “I’ve got a few days free starting tomorrow. Be over in the morning. Think you can manage ‘til then?”

Cas tried to find some measure of irritation in the idea that Dean thought he needed help with parenting, but in his exhaustion-fueled delirium, all he could do was smile loopily as he imagined Dean in his kitchen cooking breakfast. “I’ll try my best, Dean.”

“Good,” Dean said. He looked Cas up and down and smiled as he unlocked his door. “Get some sleep, Cas - you’re dead on your feet.”

And he was gone - into his apartment across from Cas’s.

 

Dean knocked on the door at 7am. He was holding a tray of eggs and a package of bacon. “You got bread, right?” is all he said, before pushing past Cas and pulling things off Cas’s shelves.

Cas stared into the empty hallway, trying to remember a time he would have been surprised to see Dean in his doorway. It was hard to believe that only a few days prior Dean had merely been the handsome acquaintance who lived in the apartment across from Cas’s - especially because now Dean was in a T-shirt and sweatpants pulling down bowls and frying pans from Cas’s cupboards like he lived there too. 

Cas quashed that thought before it got too far. He closed the door. “Would you like a coffee?”

Dean’s answering grin was so bright Cas had to turn away. “Coffee sounds great, Cas.”

So they had coffee. Cas sat at the table with his mug while Dean took sips between frying off a couple of eggs and strips of bacon. Dean was in a good mood, and Cas could hardly look away from the evidence: Dean was wiggling his hips to some unheard tune, and when he turned around to deposit a plate in front of Cas, there was a soft, satisfied smile on his face.

“You seem… chipper today.”

Dean shrugged. His smile didn’t fade. “Like I said - been a while since I had someone to cook for.”

“Is that it?”

There was a short pause while Dean turned away to gather up the bacon from the pan. When he answered, he was a little reticent: “Not really. My brother’s also coming in to visit today.”

Cas had been in the middle of lifting his egg-laden fork to his mouth. He put the fork down. “Dean. What are you doing here then?”

Dean waved the spatula in the air. “If I were alone at home I’d be so nervous I’d be scrubbing the walls down to the drywall. At least this way I’m being helpful.”

Cas opened his mouth to protest, but Dean pointed his spatula at him.

“Not a word, Cas. I said I’d help, so I’m helping. His flight’s not coming in until the afternoon anyhow.”

A cry from the nursery interrupted them. They stared at each other.

“He’ll need changing,” Cas said slowly. “I’ll probably handle that.”

Dean winced. “Yeah, when I said I’d help, I meant - you know. Playing with him while you get in a nap. Making a run to the store. Poking you with a stick when you collapse of exhaustion. Y’know, general moral support.”

Sitting in front of Dean’s third home-cooked meal, Cas was hard-pressed to accept Dean’s assertion of being just “general moral support” to Cas. Already he was saving Cas from a long day of lonely, difficult parenting - he couldn’t thank Dean enough for sacrificing his time. 

But Dean was already turning away to scrub at the frying pan, and the back of his neck was red, and Jack was still fussing in his nursery, so Cas wiped his mouth with a napkin and bumped Dean out of the way of the sink so he could wash his hands. He could feel Dean’s gaze on his profile and wondered if all the things he’d given up hope on weren’t all that hopeless after all.

 

He met Sam Winchester that afternoon right outside his doorway. He had Jack in his arms and Jack’s suspiciously wet hands clutching fistfuls of his hair when he turned around after shutting his door and found himself staring at someone’s very broad shoulders.

“Oh. Excuse me,” the man said. His brown hair was curling around his ears, and he seemed tired. He was watching Cas with sharp eyes, though, which made Cas hitch Jack a little more securely in his arms.

“I apologize,” Cas said, then turned away - only to look up to see Dean walking toward them with a large duffel bag in either hand, grinning at Jack.

“Jack!” he said. “Hey, little man.” He put the bags down and held his arms out hopefully, grinning when Jack reached back. “You remember me?”

Cas let the infant be lifted out of his arms. He stood awkwardly with the stranger while Dean tried to make Jack laugh with funny faces. 

“So,” the stranger said eventually. “You gonna introduce us, Dean?”

Dean looked up. “What? Oh. Yeah.” He took Jack’s tiny hand between two fingers and waved at Sam. “Say hi to Uncle Sammy, Jack.” Then he slid a glance toward Cas. “Uh. I mean, if it’s okay.”

Sam coughed awkwardly into a fist. “I was thinking I should be introduced to Jack’s guardian, first.” He directed a hopeful look at Cas.

Cas didn’t ask how Sam knew that Cas was Jack’s guardian and not his father. “Hi, Sam,” Cas said, holding out his hand. “I’m Castiel, Dean’s neighbor. And you’ve already been introduced to Jack.”

Jack had already latched onto Sam’s finger and wouldn’t let it go until he tasted it. Dean was trying to wrest it out of Jack’s grip. “Jack, you don’t know where he’s been - leave it -”

Jack gurgled happily around Sam’s knuckle. Sam seemed to be trying not to look uncomfortable.

“I apologize,” Cas said. He pulled Jack’s teething toy from his diaper bag and exchanged it for Sam’s finger. “He’s teething.”

Sam wiped his finger on Dean’s jacket, but Dean was too busy cooing at Jack to notice or care.

“It’s fine,” Sam said. “But, uh - yeah, I’m Sam, Dean’s brother. I’m in town for a few weeks. Dean was telling me that you’re, uh - new at this parenting thing?”

“Very new,” Cas said, wiping at Jack’s mouth with a towel. “Your brother’s kept me standing single-handedly these past few days.”

Dean grinned at his brother. “Hear that? Been doing pretty well myself here.”

Sam’s expression was soft. “Never doubted it for a second, Dean.”

Jack started to reach back for Cas. Cas's heart tumbled a little painfully in his chest at the stubborn set of Jack's mouth. Cas took him from Dean's arms. 

Dean's cheeks were flushed, presumably with the kind of happiness that comes with having family who loved you, though Cas didn’t have much experience with that. “We were headed to dinner in a few hours - you’re more than welcome to join us.”

“That’s very kind, but you probably have a lot of catching up to do,” Cas said. “Though - can I speak to you privately, Dean?”

“Yeah, sure,” Dean said. He searched his pockets for his keys and threw it at Sam. “Let yourself in, Sasquatch,” he said. “I’ll be a few minutes.” Then to Cas, he said, “You were headed out? I’ll walk you to your car.” He took the diaper bag from where it was falling off Cas’s shoulder, then hitched it on his instead. 

“It was nice meeting you, Sam,” Cas said, turning to the taller man, who was watching the exchange between Dean and Cas with raised eyebrows. 

It took Sam a few moments to reply. “Yeah, no, it was my pleasure, man,” Sam said eventually, clapping Cas on the shoulder. “I’m sure we’ll see each other again. See you later.” Sam touched Jack on the cheek. “You too, little buddy.”

With a heart full of warmth, Cas bid Sam goodbye and caught up to Dean where he was waiting for the elevator. 

“Sorry” was the first thing out of Dean’s mouth as Cas came to wait next to him.

“For what?” Cas asked, trying to keep Jack from gnawing the button off his polo. 

“You know. ‘Uncle Sammy’ and all that. Kinda overstepped.”

It had, truthfully, been an odd thing to say, considering that Dean had known Jack all of one full day. But Cas was touched, and he hated to see Dean doubting himself. “It was a little strange, but with the kind of life he’s had, I think Jack needs as much family as he can get.”

Dean was frowning when Cas looked over, though Cas didn’t know if it was Dean’s skepticism or because of the implication about Jack’s past. He didn’t wait to find out.

“Your brother is very kind,” Cas said.

Dean let Cas enter the elevator first when it finally opened in front of them. “And I’m not?” he asked, sending Cas a sly look.

Cas looked down at his feet - or what he could see of it, with Jack in his arms. “You’re _too_ kind,” he said. “Which is why I wanted to speak with you.”

He turned to see Dean giving him an unreadable look from the opposite corner of the elevator. “Am I stepping on your toes or something, Cas?”

“No, no,” Cas said hastily. “I just wanted to make sure that you knew that you’re not _obligated_ to help me. Your brother’s in town, and you probably took a few days off work to take him around so I won’t -”

The elevator doors opened. Cas pressed his lips together as they both shuffled out past the family waiting to get in. Once they were free of the crowd, he touched Dean on the arm and watched as Dean’s frown relaxed, just a little bit.

“I’m trying to say,” Cas said, “that I won’t be angry with you if you wanted to spend time with your brother instead of staying with me and Jack. You probably offered to help without thinking - I - ”

Dean rolled his eyes. He hitched the diaper bag more securely over his shoulder and started walking toward the exit before Cas could finish. “Dude,” he said, over his shoulder, “I already told you - I want to help.” And despite having walked away first, he waited to hold the door open for Cas and Jack. The hand he put - so fleetingly - on Cas’s back was warm and solid and more than Cas knew what to do with. 

“And anyhow,” Dean continued, “Sam’s in town for job interviews, so he’s really only gonna need me to drive him around. And trust me, you don’t want me to be left alone waiting on news. I’ll be climbing the walls. You’re doing me and Sammy a favor by giving me something to do.”

Cas’s car was parked around the corner. When they got to it, Dean was the one to put Jack in the car seat. “Where you guys headed?” he asked Cas, checking the tautness of the strap. 

“The park,” Cas said, looking at the keys in his hands rather than the enticing sight of Dean Winchester bending over in front of him.

Dean bumped his head in his haste to straighten. “The _park?_ ” he said incredulously.

Cas tilted his head. “Yes?”

“What does a six-month-old do at a park, Cas?”

“It’s not about what he can do,” Cas said slowly, “It’s about getting some fresh air.”

Dean gestured around them. “We’re getting fresh air right now, aren’t we?”

Cas held up a hand. “What do you have against the park?”

“It’s dangerous,” Dean said immediately. “Muggers and drunks and - and _dogs,_ for another thing.” He seemed appalled that Cas didn’t seem to see the danger.

Bizarrely, Cas wanted to kiss him. “We’ll be fine, Dean.”

Cas could tell that Dean wanted to argue more, but Dean just pressed his lips together and looked back at the baby in the car seat. “Just be careful, alright?” he said. “And next time I’m definitely going with you.”

“That sounds wonderful, Dean,” Cas said, because it really did. He touched Dean’s elbow, then forced himself to turn away. “Now go and have your dinner with Sam.” He got into the driver’s seat. 

Dean frowned, even as Cas started the car. “I’m coming by afterward to check on Jack,” he said, his fingers trailing along the groove of the open window.

Cas drove away with a smile, with Dean in his rearview mirror lifting a hand in a goodbye.

 

Dean did indeed come by afterward to check on Jack, and though his visit lasted only a few minutes, it was the first of many. True to his word, for the next week, Dean would drop by after dropping Sam off in town, and he, Cas, and Jack would spend the next few hours navigating the landscape of the new family dynamics. Dean cooked and cleaned (rearranged the shelves, cleaned out the fridge, moved the mushed peas behind a large carton of milk), which for the most part left Cas ample time to learn more about the child in his care.

He learned that Jack would babble at the TV when left to his own devices, and that when he was feeling particularly determined, he could crawl for short distances at a time. His favorite toy was a colorful plastic piano that laid across his lap and emitted tinny notes when he smashed his fists into the keys. The toy filled the small apartment with a level of noise that it had never encountered in the time Cas had lived there, and Cas, watching Jack’s eyes follow the lights as they trailed across the keys, wasn’t sure he could regret it. He had loved Jack as Kelly’s son - more than Jack’s own father had, though that wasn’t saying much - but now that Jack was Cas’s son (or as good as), the love that seized his heart was so overwhelming it was almost painful.

Dean fit into the arrangement effortlessly, though Cas frequently felt that Dean was working too hard for nothing. Despite Cas’s frequent attempts to keep Dean from doing too much, Dean would just point at Cas with whatever tool he was holding - a scrub, a spatula, a spoon, the hose of a vacuum - and say, “Stop. This is keeping me from going nuts.” And though he didn’t want to admit it, Cas could see that the busy work was indeed keeping Dean from “climbing the walls” as he waited for news from Sam. Cas would catch Dean’s eyes sliding to the clock more often than not, or pausing in his work to pull his phone out to check his notifications. 

Cas found himself sticking close to Dean when he could, offering up Jack as a distraction more often than not - a distraction that Dean would accept with a delighted grin, a “Hey, buddy,” and a grateful look at Cas. Dean would then walk around the kitchen with Jack in one arm and a toy in the other, oblivious to everything save for the baby in his arms. Cas would then pretend to be busy cleaning up Jack’s toys when in reality he would be watching Dean and his child - watching Dean’s mouth move against Jack’s temple; the easy way Dean moved while holding a curious, energetic child; the soft, sweet peace in the little bubble that Dean had created just for him and Jack. 

Cas was, in a word, smitten. He was absolutely smitten with the neighbor he’d always admired, seen now in a completely different light - in the light of his kitchen, for one, and more significantly in the light of the nightlight in Jack’s nursery. But the feelings for Dean that Cas had developed were unwise and untimely - not to mention dangerous - mostly because Cas could very easily see himself falling in love with the man very quickly and very soon. Cas would have welcomed love at any other time, but so soon after becoming Jack’s guardian? Getting distracted - and oh, Dean could distract Cas so easily - could very easily prove to have serious, long-lasting consequences on Jack.

And Dean had his own struggles to think of too. Cas hadn’t dug too deeply when they had begun to talk about Sam, but from what Dean had alluded to, Cas gathered that the brothers’ childhood had been a difficult one, and that there had been an estrangement for a number of years, and that Sam looking for a job closer to Dean was a Big Deal for their renewed relationship. Dean and Sam were both working toward re-forging a relationship that had been broken, and Cas and Jack were working toward building a bond that was never supposed to have existed in the first place.

So despite the yearning in his gut to reach out a hand to Dean’s shoulder, to Dean’s jaw, Cas knew that he couldn’t push. Both Dean and Cas had obligations to other people - obligations that were more important, Cas knew, than what could just end up being a mere tumble in the sheets. And while admittedly Cas would have liked to have taken that tumble with Dean, it was difficult to think of Dean as just a bedroom partner - not when Cas so often walked into the kitchen after putting Jack down for a nap to see Dean folding a pile of Jack’s pajamas into neat stacks like he belonged there.

 

Jack started sneezing on Friday. When Dean showed up at around 7 in the evening, it was with a sour look, and Cas was not looking forward to telling Dean that Jack had been suffering for most of the day. He offered Dean a weak smile. “Dean - I didn’t think I’d see you tonight.”

“Yeah,” Dean said distractedly. “Sammy went off and ditched me for a date.” He looked around. “Where’s the little dude? He’s not sleeping, is he?”

Cas had been in the middle of catching up on his mail. He clutched a credit card application to his chest. “He’s exhausted.”

“Did you take him to the park again?” Dean said. He said it jokingly, with a sly glance toward Cas, but Cas couldn’t meet his eyes because he knew Jack had likely contracted the virus from one of the older kids at the park.

“No,” Cas said. “He has a cold.”

Dean, who had been peeking hopefully at the contents of the pot simmering on the stove, immediately froze. He turned slowly toward Cas. “Sorry - a cold?”

Cas frowned. “Yes.”

“Did he catch it at the park?”

“You know there’s no way to tell - “

“Dammit, Cas.”

“Babies get colds,” Cas said irritably, “It’s no one’s fault, so don’t blame me.” For the first time, he felt irritated with Dean - hurt, mostly, that Dean thought that Cas didn’t do his damnedest to keep his child healthy. “And might I remind you that he is _my_ son? Or - my - he’s - he’s mine.” He faltered a little toward the end, and he saw the moment Dean noticed, because Dean closed his eyes. His eyelids trembled.

“Yeah,” Dean mumbled. “It’s - yeah. I’m a dick. I’m sorry.”

They stood awkwardly in the middle of Cas’s kitchen for a few moments. 

“Would you - like to go and see him?” Cas said, a peace offering. “He’s asleep, but maybe it will make you feel better.”

Dean’s gaze was soft when he looked up at Cas. “Yeah,” he said gently, offering Cas a smile. He pushed himself off the fridge. “Lead the way.”

He trailed after Cas and took a slow breath when they walked into the nursery and saw Jack sleeping restfully, his bee plushie tucked underneath the blanket with him.

Dean nudged Cas with an elbow and sent him an impressed look, motioning to the humidifier puffing away in the corner. “That’s new.”

Cas smiled, a little guilty. “I may also have been angry with myself and gone to the store immediately after the doctor’s.”

Dean sighed, long and heavy. His shoulder brushed Cas’s. “Sorry about back there,” he murmured, tugging down Jack’s shirt. “Been a long few days.”

“It’s okay,” Cas said, heart warm. “You apologized. Twice.”

Dean didn’t seem to be done spilling his feelings, however. He rearranged the stuffed animals in Jack’s crib so that they were lined up against the railing, watching over the baby, probably so he wouldn’t have to meet Cas’s eyes. “I mean, you’re a good dad, Cas. I didn’t - you know, I didn’t mean to make it seem like you weren’t. I’m just - I’ve always been a little overprotective. And Jack is - Jack’s a good little dude.”

Cas stroked a finger over the baby’s smooth cheek. “He is,” he agreed. “And for what it’s worth, I think he’s better off with both of us looking out for him.”

There was a long pause. Even Dean’s hand had stopped its restless movements and was left frozen above Jack’s stomach holding a stuffed giraffe. Cas looked up, mortified. Dean was staring at him thoughtfully. “Both of us,” he repeated softly.

Cas shook his head, a little panicked that he’d stepped over a line. “I didn’t -”

But Dean just rolled his eyes. “Stop apologizing,” he said, placing the giraffe in the corner of the crib.

“How do you know I was apologizing?” Cas stammered.

Dean turned away from the crib. “I know you, Cas,” he said lightly, then patted Cas’s shoulder. The hand lingered. It skated down to touch a few fingers to the inside of Cas’s elbow for a millisecond - then Dean was gone, out of the room.

 

 

Cas’s room was too quiet that night. It wasn’t any quieter than any other night - was no less brighter or darker or in any way different. But when Cas closed his eyes, all he could think about was how _quiet_ and _empty_ it seemed. After a week of Dean dancing in and out of Cas’s apartment, wiggling his hips to music Cas couldn’t hear, blowing raspberries on Jack’s stomach, singing off-key to distract Jack from his teething pains, the peaceful moments seemed so much quieter in comparison. 

He knew the contrast was emphasized now by the knowledge that Dean was just outside his bedroom door, dozing on the couch, having insisted on staying the night after Jack had woken up and broken both of their hearts with his frustrated tears. Cas scrubbed a hand over his face, reliving the moment he’d almost _almost_ invited Dean into his room to sleep on the empty side of the bed. It had been on the tip of his tongue - but then Dean had yawned and settled on the couch and said, “G’night, Cas,” and the moment had passed.

And Cas was glad the moment had passed, even though now the moment still haunted him in the emptiness of his bedroom.

A small cry shattered his misery. He was up and out of bed before he even realized it, and only just stopped himself from jerking the door open and waking his guest. He pulled open the door slowly, then padded silently toward the couch to check that Dean hadn’t been disturbed.

The couch was empty save for the blanket Cas had loaned to Dean.

Cas walked to the slightly open nursery door, shame that Dean had gotten to Jack before him pulling warmth to his cheeks. He peeked in, intent on a hasty apology, but what he saw stopped him short. Jack was dozing in Dean’s arms, his cheek pillowed against Dean’s shoulder, and Dean - Dean was talking. It took Cas a little while to figure out what he was saying to Jack.

“- feel bad. I’m just - you know. Or, I guess you don’t know. You will when you’re older and you start noticing girls. Or guys, whatever - I’m not one to talk. You’ll start acting like an idiot around them, then you’ll come to me, old man Winchester in the apartment next door, and you’ll say, ‘You were right, Mr. Winchester!’ and I’ll probably be using a walker by then, so - wow, that got depressing.”

There was a long pause. Dean’s face turned away as if he were pressing a kiss to Jack’s head. “Point is, kiddo, that you gotta help me out, alright? Your dad’s a great guy -” 

He stopped as if to listen to Jack’s mumbling. Cas watched the way the light from Jack’s nightlight hugged Dean’s profile. His heart was so full of gratitude he wanted to cry.

“Yeah, I know he ain’t your dad yet, but he loves you just as much as a dad should.” 

Cas dragged a hand over his mouth, wanting to say something, but knowing that Dean deserved this private moment. He turned away from the gap in the door, fully intent on leaving, but he stopped short. Berating himself all the while, he leaned back in.

Dean heaved a long sigh. “And he’ll be your dad soon, bud, just you wait. He’ll be the daddy that you deserve, and I’ll - I’ll be the next-door neighbor, and - well, that’s where you come in, because you gotta put in a good word for me, okay?” 

Cas stepped a little closer, holding his breath, trying to understand. A good word? Why would Dean need a good word with Cas? Unless...

There was a long silence in the nursery. Dean’s eyes were focused on the crib in front of him, though it was so long before he said anything else that it was obvious his thoughts was elsewhere. His hand moved up and down Jack’s small back absently.

The next time he spoke, it was with a slight tremble. “I’d do a lot for you and your dad, bud, you know that? I, uh - I really like him,” he finally murmured, just loud enough to reach Cas’s straining ears. “Don’t tell him, though,” he continued, as he slowly started to pull the sleeping baby away from his chest. “He’s got enough on his plate, I think.” And with that, he smiled and placed Jack back in the crib. 

Cas stole away, heart hammering in nerves and the sudden, overwhelming knowledge that Dean had feelings for him.

 

Cas woke up from a fitful doze a few hours later. He didn’t remember falling asleep. The last thing he remembered was staring at his alarm clock as it blinked its way into the twilight hours, having been unable to quell the clamor of his thoughts in the wake of what he’d learned from his eavesdropping.

The revelation was amazing and overwhelming and entirely unexpected, and while Cas wanted to wrap himself up in the knowledge that Dean - wonderful, kind, generous, amazing, green-eyed Dean - had feelings for him, he also had to face the hard truth: he couldn’t possibly pursue Dean. Not now. Not with Jack, and the many hard months and years ahead of them as guardian and ward. Cas fully intended on adopting Jack one day, and despite his lawyer assuring him that it would more than likely go smoothly, the process from Cas’s current vantage point seemed long and arduous. What if Jack’s father showed up again? What if Cas lost his job? What if any one of another thousand horrible things happened to throw a wrench in the process?

Cas couldn’t put Dean through that. Dean had said it himself in the nursery: all Cas had to do was say the word, and Dean would do it - for him and Jack. Dean’s sense of obligation would keep him chained to Cas and Jack, especially if he thought they relied on him. What if Dean couldn’t handle the path Cas had chosen for himself and Jack, but his kindness didn’t allow himself to leave? What if Dean found himself stuck, months or years down the road, with a boyfriend he didn’t love and a child that wasn’t his but who had come to need him? Cas wouldn’t wish that future on anyone, especially Dean. 

Laying in bed, staring up at the peeling paint of his bedroom ceiling, Cas indulged himself for a few moments: he let himself imagine a future in which Dean lay next to him, and instead of staring at his ceiling, Cas would be staring at Dean, whose eyes would be closed and whose nose would be smushed against Cas’s bare shoulder. Cas would kiss Dean’s forehead, and Dean would grumble at being woken and wind his arms around Cas’s middle to keep him from getting up. And then Jack, big enough by then to have his own bed, would push open the door and crawl under the blanket with them, and Dean, suddenly awake, would peek at his son through half-lidded eyes and execute a sneak tickle attack.

Cas shook his head to rid it of the image. Ridiculous. He scrubbed a hand over his face and let it go. He resolved to keep his feelings to himself. By doing so he was guaranteeing that whatever choice Dean made regarding their relationship would be Dean’s and Dean’s alone. If Dean stayed, he stayed. If he left, then he left. For now, Cas was going to operate on the assumption that there would be no future for him and Dean, no days spent lazing in bed waiting for their son to wake them up. 

He got out of bed and dressed. He felt a little better having made a decision, but then through his closed door, he heard the sound of Jack’s infernal piano toy starting up against the backdrop of Dean starting breakfast, and Cas’s heart began to ache. 

It didn’t stop aching for a long time.

 

A few days later, Cas opened the door to a grinning Dean. “Hey,” Dean said cheerfully. “Good news! Oh, and bad news, I guess.”

Cas stepped back to let him in, heart hurting again at the sight of Dean. “I’ll take the bad news first, then.”

Dean swooped in to pick up Jack from where he was spreading his baby food - prune flavored this time - all over his high chair. He didn’t even seem to mind that Jack was getting sticky hands in his shirt. “Well,” Dean said, hitching Jack up more securely in his arms, “I gotta leave you two for about a week.”

“Oh,” Cas murmured. “I see.” He was disappointed, embarrassingly so, and he turned back to his laundry to hide it, but not before seeing Dean’s smile fall a little.

“Maybe that’s a good thing,” Dean said, a poor attempt at a joke.

Cas shook his head. “We’ll miss you,” he said, though he wasn’t sure he should be being honest when he was trying to keep his feelings from Dean. “Where are you going?” He said it mostly to mask the hurt pulling his lips into a frown.

At this, Dean’s smile returned. “Heading back with Sammy to help him pack up his apartment.”

Cas looked at Dean. The smile that spread on his face was sincere. “He got a job?” he asked.

Dean was nodding, clearly pleased. “He did,” he said. “And plus, now that he and Eileen are a thing, he wanted to be near her.”

“And you,” Cas said. “Of course he wanted to be near you too.”

“That too, I guess,” Dean said, though his voice had softened considerably. He nudged his nose into Jack’s temple and sighed happily. The little boy was playing with the spoon in his hand, knocking it against Dean’s shoulder and spreading prune splatter on the fridge behind them. 

Despite knowing it would only make things worse, Cas indulged himself. He stared at Dean’s profile for a few seconds and soaked in the sight of Jack, calm and comfortable in Dean’s arms - and Dean, drawing comfort from the young life in his arms. Cas wondered sadly where else he could possibly find more peace than in this moment and wished there were a universe in which he were allowed to keep it.

“Anyway,” Dean said, smiling at Jack when the baby turned to stare at his face in curiosity. “I’ll be out for a week. You think you can handle the baby without me?”

“I’ll be fine,” Cas said, touched. 

“I was talking to Jack,” Dean said, sliding Cas a cheeky look. 

“Oh?” Cas said. He struggled to keep a smile off his face. “And what did he say?”

Dean kissed the baby on the cheek. His lips lingered against Jack’s skin for a few seconds. Then he said, as he pulled away, “He said he’ll take good care of you while I’m gone.”

It was the first hint that Dean fully intended on coming back and resuming their arrangement. Cas had to sit down. He re-folded his sweater just so he wouldn’t have to look at Dean and give away the pain and joy he felt at knowing Dean would come back to him. “He’s a smart boy,” Cas said to the sweater. “He’ll do a good job.”

“Yeah, he will. Anyway. I - uh. Flight’s early tomorrow, so I might not be able to say bye before I go. Just wanted to let you know.”

Dean was lingering by Jack’s high chair, having put the baby in his seat. He was looking at Jack, but met Cas’s eyes when Cas looked up. Dean smiled at him, but it was a small one, a touch sad. 

“Jack will miss you,” Cas said, helpless at the sight of Dean’s sad eyes. 

“Just Jack?” It was said lightly, teasingly, but Dean’s gaze never wavered.

Cas smoothed his hands over the sweater in his lap. “I’ll probably miss you more,” Cas admitted, knowing it was a bad idea to say so, but hating the vulnerability in Dean’s eyes. He cleared his throat, embarrassed by its tightness. “So come back safe. And soon. Before Jack forgets what you look like.”

Dean looked down at his feet with a grin. “Yeah, I’ll be back before you know it, Cas.” He kissed Jack on the head one more time then started walking backward to the door. “It’ll be interesting to see if you can survive without me.”

Cas glared, and Dean’s grin grew wider.

“Don’t miss me too much!”

And he was gone.

And the apartment was empty save for a father and his son.

 

The first few days of Dean’s absence were among the loneliest Cas ever experienced, beaten only by the days following Kelly’s accident. He managed, however, just as he managed in the wake of Kelly’s death, and by the third day of Dean’s absence, Cas found that he was waking up a little more rested, a little less anxious. He was getting pretty good at this fathering thing. He may not ever be perfect, he figured, but he was getting somewhere. 

Jack seemed to get bigger by the day, and smarter, too. He had started to refuse the mushed peas he used to love two weeks before, and Cas wanted to blame Dean, but that meant thinking of Dean, and that meant an aching heart. Instead Cas started to reach automatically for prunes rather than peas, and he learned to distract himself by reteaching himself piano. The chords seemed to distract Jack, too, and whenever Cas needed Jack’s attention, he slid onto the piano bench and played a few chords of Canon in D until Jack dropped his toy piano and stared. Eventually, beguiled by Jack’s tiny-toothed smile, he started to sit the baby on his lap and hold him steady while the baby’s fists punched at each note they could reach.

He was learning, and so was Cas. Dean was wonderful with Jack, but Cas was learning to be patient and to be strong and to be a father in his own right.

So when Dean returned a few days later, and he looked around the apartment with an impressed quirk to his lips, Cas really shouldn’t have been surprised when he said, “Wow. Looks like you don’t need me anymore.”

And it was true. But it didn’t make Cas feel any better. He put Jack back in his playpen, then immediately regretted it when he realized that now he and Dean had nothing to do but stare at each other from across the apartment. He cleared his throat and broke his gaze away. He headed to the kitchen to make a bottle, despite Jack having only fed a few minutes before Dean’s arrival.

“How was your flight?” he asked.

Dean sat down at the kitchen table. His clothes were rumpled. He probably hadn’t even changed from his flight. “Honestly?” he asked. “Bad.”

Cas frowned. “Delayed?”

Dean was staring at Jack in his playpen. “Nah, ‘m just not a good flyer. Held onto Sammy’s sleeve for about half the flight, then think I blacked out for the rest of it.”

“I - that sounds unpleasant,” Cas said. His head was full of images of Dean clutching _his_ sleeve now, and all the ways Cas could think of to distract him.

“Thought of you and Jack for a lot of it,” Dean murmured. “Kept me from hurling.”

Cas clutched the tin of formula in two hands and tried not to let his emotions show on his face. “I - I’m glad you’re feeling better,” he said, falling dreadfully short of everything he wanted to say.

When he looked over, Dean was staring at him with the barest trace of a frown. He quirked his lips into a smile when he saw Cas looking, however, and stood. “Anyway,” he said. “Think it’s about time you and Jack get back to your lives.”

At that, Cas gave up any pretense of making Jack a bottle. “What do you mean?” He knew exactly what Dean meant, but to accept it was more difficult that he thought it would be, though he’d spent the three days prior to this conversation preparing for it. 

Dean shoved his hands into his jacket pocket. He looked over at Jack. “Just - you know. You and Jack are getting along fine, nothing’s caught on fire, you finally look like you’ve gotten a few decent meals in you - “

It hurt hearing all of the excuses Dean was giving, but Cas had promised that whatever Dean decided, he’d accept. But Cas couldn’t resist saying, “That’s because of you, you know. The - the decent meals thing, at least.”

Dean looked pleased. He smiled at his shoes. “Yeah, thanks. I liked taking care of you.” There was a flush climbing up his neck, and Cas had to curl his fingers into his palms to keep from asking why Dean didn’t want to stay.

Jack started babbling to himself. Dean’s gaze landed on the baby, and the affectionate quirk of his lips had Cas grasping the counter for support.

“Anyway,” Dean said, sighing. “Personal days are about to run out, so I should get back to work soon.”

Cas nodded. “Of course.” 

Dean still hadn’t taken his eyes off Jack. “Can I - can I say good night to Jack?”

There was a lump in Cas’s throat. He made some sort of affirmative noise, so Dean walked to the playpen and picked Jack up with a grunt.

“Been putting on the pounds, eh, bud?” 

Jack put his slippery hands in Dean’s hair. 

Dean winced. “Needed a shower anyway, I guess,” he muttered. He placed a lingering kiss on Jack’s round cheek. “Gotta go, little guy. I’ll be around if you need me, alright?” He placed his forehead against Jack’s for the barest second. 

Cas looked away, heart aching. He heard a few more soft murmurs, then Dean’s approaching footsteps.

“I’m gonna head out,” Dean’s voice said.

Cas turned around, thankful that he’d had a few seconds to hastily wipe at his eyes. “Sure,” he said. He walked Dean to the door, though it was only five feet away. When he got there, however, he turned to Dean and tried to put on a kind smile. “I just wanted to say thank you, Dean. For these past few weeks. You’ve been wonderful to help me with Jack.” He was proud to say that his voice didn’t waver, though he was sure his smile did.

Dean’s eyes flickered between Cas’s. Despite Cas’s smile, Dean’s expression was serious. “If you - if you still need me, Cas, I’m more than willing to come by after work and help out.”

And there it was again. _If you need me_. “I don’t want you to stay just because you feel like you need to, Dean,” Cas whispered, horrified to hear his voice catch. “You’re not obligated to us.” 

Dean frowned. “What if I want to?”

Cas looked away, back to Jack, who was staring at the mobile above him. There were so many struggles ahead for both of them, and to involve Dean, who had his own life and his own struggles, was selfish. “You’re going to get tired of us eventually, Dean,” he said finally.

When he faced Dean again, Dean’s eyebrows were furrowed. Dean licked his lips slowly. “Cas,” he said, “I’m about to kiss you. So you gotta tell me right now if you don’t want this. Right now. Because I - I really, really want to kiss you.”

A shiver ran up Cas’s spine at Dean’s words. He wanted to protest out of logic - that it would never work even if this kiss was the best kiss of either of their lives - but he found his selfishness overriding his sense. Hating himself, he nodded.

Dean let out a small, delirious laugh. He was still smiling when he leaned in, his hands coming up to cup Cas’s face. The first press of Dean’s lips was hesitant, but to have Dean so close, especially when Cas had spent the last few days aching for Dean’s presence, was overwhelming. He pressed harder, his hands gripping Dean’s jacket. 

Cas had known Dean’s feelings for a little more than a week. He’d had time to get used to it. But to _feel_ Dean’s feelings in the way Dean’s lips moved against his was another thing altogether. It was warm and getting warmer, like walking into a warm apartment after a lonely winter night. He wanted to keep kissing Dean forever, to wrap himself up in Dean and never let go.

Eventually, however, Dean broke away. The kiss had lasted only a few seconds, but Cas’s heart was beating like he’d run a marathon.

Dean stayed in Cas’s space. His breath was warm against Cas’s jaw, and Cas felt even warmer when Dean started speaking - a low, hushed murmur that made Cas shiver.

“I can’t tell the future, Cas, but I can tell you exactly how I feel right now.” 

Cas closed his eyes. He nudged his nose against Dean’s cheek and tried to quell the emotion threatening to choke him.

Dean cleared his throat. When he spoke again, his voice was a rich murmur near Cas’s ear. “I love Jack. I’d do anything for him. So when you say I’m gonna get tired of him? Not gonna happen.” 

He pulled away, but Cas’s eyes were closed. Cas felt Dean’s thumbs tracing his cheeks.

“Not planning on getting tired of you, either, Cas.”

Cas knew at once that this was the most Dean could guarantee, and it was still more than he’d dared to hope. Cas opened his eyes then, knowing they were misty. “I’m gonna adopt him.”

Dean smiled. It was big and relieved and affectionate. “I’ll be there with you if you let me.”

Cas wanted to believe him. So he said it. “I want you there with me.”

“Then I’ll be there.” 

One tear slipped down Cas’s cheek. “You’ll let me know if you want out?”

Dean’s smile fell. “Jesus, Cas. What kind of question is that?”

“I don’t want you to feel trapped,” Cas whispered. “You might love Jack, but if you stop having feelings for -”

“Stop.” Dean opened his mouth, then closed it again. His throat bobbed. “I don’t - this is hard for me. I - Cas, I don’t just love Jack, okay? I love his dad, too. I wouldn’t tell you I wanted this if I weren’t absolutely sure. And if - and this is a big fuckin’ if - _if_ things don’t work out, well, I can’t say I could just leave Jack, but I promise I won’t stay just to spare your feelings.”

Cas could never have foreseen Dean revealing feelings quite so deep, so it took a few seconds for Dean’s words to sink in. Dean spoke of love and sincerity and confidence and Cas was sure things wouldn’t be as easy as either of them thought it might be in that moment, but Dean was making a decision, and Cas had sworn he would respect it. His hands came up to touch Dean’s waist a little more confidently. He nodded. “Okay.”

Dean grinned. “Okay?”

“Okay,” Cas confirmed, and smiled. “You love me.”

Dean ducked his head, his cheeks pink, but his smile grew even bigger. “Yeah,” he said, soft.

“I love you too.” Cas didn’t know when it happened - just that at this moment, knowing Dean was there for his little family for the foreseeable future, he knew it was true. He hadn’t allowed himself to dwell on his feelings before. But now there it was, huge and undeniable. 

Dean’s smile grew bashful. He hid it in Cas’s shoulder. “Can I stay over? Sam’s still staying with me and he snores.”

Cas laughed. “Of course, Dean.”

“Gotta let him know, though, before he busts your door down,” Dean said, straightening. His hands seemed loathe to leave Cas’s sides. “Don’t know if he trusts you all too much yet.”

Cas smiled. “We have time.”

Dean’s answering grin was bright, so bright it made Cas’s stomach flip. “We do.” He leaned in for another kiss, which Cas was more than willing to give and give and give. When Dean broke away, his cheeks were pink. He fumbled for the doorknob. “I’ll be back.”

“Okay.”

Dean was still all pleased, bashful smiles as he left. When the door closed behind him, Cas stared at it for a few long moments. Happiness the likes of which he hadn’t felt since Kelly’s accident suffused him. He went over to Jack and picked him up, not to calm Jack’s restlessness but his own. “Do you think your mom would like Dean, little one?” he whispered. “Do you think she’d be happy for us?”

Jack dragged a slippery hand down Cas’s collar. He babbled sweetly, his big brown eyes crinkling as he smiled.

“She would? I think so too. But what about you? Are you happy for us?” He stuck out his tongue. 

Jack cooed happily at the sight, showing off the very beginnings of two front teeth. 

“We’re going to be happy, Jack,” Cas whispered. “You and me. And Dean, if he wants to stay. But no matter what, I’m going to make sure you’re happy, for as long as you let me.”

Jack stared at Cas’s intense expression. Then he giggled - a sudden, joyous thing that made Cas’s heart grow ten sizes. A little drool trickled from the corner of Jack’s mouth. Cas wiped it away with his T-shirt fondly. 

The doorbell rang. Cas walked over to the door with Jack in his arms. When Cas looked into the peephole, he saw Dean in a T-shirt and sweatpants, smiling at his feet. There was a duffel in one of his hands: a promise. “Ready, Jack?” Cas whispered. When Cas opened the door, it was to a new life.

**Author's Note:**

> There it is, my first DCRB. Weren't you amazed by the art? Here's the masterpost link so you can find my artist boopliette's post and send her all the love: [CLICK](https://deancasreversebang.tumblr.com/post/175091572100/title-growing-pains-artist-boopliette-author). 
> 
> I have to extend the biggest thanks to my artist boopliette, because her art spawned the fic, which I am exceedingly happy with. From the start of our pairing, everything my artist wanted from the fic seemed to be exactly what I loved to write, and I am so happy that we were paired up. Thank you, Emily, for all of your hard work. It was an honor to work with you, and I hope the fic lived up to your expectations!
> 
> And of course, a huge thank you to Muse and Jojo, who took on the challenge of modding the DCRB and have done an admirable job! This is my first year participating in challenges, and they have been instrumental in making it a positive experience so far!
> 
> (also can you tell i'm the youngest in the family and have no experience with children I AM SO SORRY JACK)


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